6/28/2004

R. Lucky left for Las Vegas yesterday. According to her, our months of piggy bank savings have blown away in the desert. I was hoping I'd be bedding down with a millionaire when she got back, but I'll just settle for a derriere.
She told me about her first day of liquour and one-armed bandits while I made a quesadilla at 1:00 a.m. because neither of us could sleep.
For the next few days I'll stumble around the apartment, forgetting pants and when to eat.
I found an interesting on-line journal from a soldier in Iraq. If the sucker's for real then our souls are fucked.
A story.
When I was five-years-old or so my family went to Wisconsin Dells, which is for midwesterners who feel Disney isn't cheese-focused enough.
One of the proudest moments of my life was when I got to drive one of the Wisconsin Dells Ducks, a land/water hybrid tourist mover.
I thought I was really driving the boat and loved every minute of it. As I swerved the large boat around the captain told me I was in danger of wrecking it on the rocky cliffs. But, I couldn't let that happen and always straightened the boat out in the nick of time to save my precious crew.
I thought I was a natural boat captain because it was all so easy. I wanted to be a duck captain when I grew up.
But then I did grow up. I realized I wasn't in charge of anything. I might have had my hands on the steering wheel, but one wrong move and the real captain would have yanked me out of control.
I can't say it was heart breaking to find out I'm not a natural river boat captain, so don't cry for me Dorkentina.
But it is sad that so many people will think that today's "hand over" of Iraq sovereignty is real, that the post-toddler steering the country is the real captain.
But one wrong step and they'll lose their grip on the wheel.
The truth is that nothing has changed, dorks. The war is still going on. Four or five guys signing a piece of paper doesn't stop bullets from going through soldiers.
But play with your MTvs and watch your Olsen twins dance, dorks. Close your eyes and let it slip by, because it's not happening to you. You aren't dumber or a zombie. You'll get mad when they show up on your front door and take away your rights, right? That's when you'll be upset.
And then you'll be in a nice, quiet Cuban ass-prodding camp.